


Break Your Heart

by BlueNightmare



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blackmail, F/M, Humiliation, Panty Gag, Rape, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 10:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNightmare/pseuds/BlueNightmare
Summary: In her personal office in the building of the company she now runs, Haru should be in full control. The return of an unwelcome face from her past changes that, and more.





	Break Your Heart

There was no way out, but through compliance.

Shaking, breathless with fear, Haru Okumura stepped backward until her rear bumped into the desk of her skyscraper office, reinforcement of the cold reality that the young CEO had nowhere else to go. In more ways than one, she was cornered, and this time there were no Phantom Thieves or Personas to help her escape.

Sugimura leered at her across her lonely sun-drenched office, his lips curled into a smirk that Haru knew all too well.

"I see you've finally decided to be sensible about this."

He took a step towards her, his leather shoes stalking across the carpet, and Haru's deep brown eyes took on the look of a frightened doe, afraid, yet miserably resigned to her fate. She had dodged this bullet more than once in her life, first when her father had passed, then when Sugimura had tried to con his way back into her life and control of the company, but this time... she didn't see how she was going to get out of it.

She could call security. She could fight him. But... if she did that...

The documents he had handed to her, papers now spread across her desk alongside her her abandoned teacup, were surely not the only copies in existence. The proof of her father's illegal business arrangements while he had been in control of Okumura Foods were written in plain black and white, incontrovertible. Haru had known about them, had ended them and reported them to the authorities, but they had never become public knowledge, and after the battering her company's reputation had taken when the truth about Masayoshi Shido had come out, the amount of customers they had lost...

Could Okumura Foods withstand this damning information becoming public? 

What would happen to the company? To the countless people who worked for it?

She couldn't risk it. Sugimura had her right where he wanted her, and the wicked gleam in his soulless eyes was proof that he knew it.

"I-I won't marry you." Haru forced steel into her voice, as much as she could muster, straightening her posture and looking him in the eye as if this were a business negotiation, as if she possessed any sort of bargaining position. She barely felt like an executive right now, and it didn't help that she was wearing much the same outfit that she had commonly worn to school - her favorite pink sweater and white shirt beneath, dotted tights and neat black shoes, her plain black skirt her only concession to her graduation from Shujin. It made her feel more down to earth, still the girl she had been despite her lofty new position in life, but now it made her feel like less than she should be, like a girl still under her father's thumb. Under Sugimura's. "This... this _arrangement_ is not a marriage contract. It will not give you any control-"

"Shut up."

Sugimura's voice landed like a slap, and she fell silent automatically, as if it had been her father giving the order. Nobody had talked to her like that since he had died.

"You already know what I want." He took another step towards her, then another, and then he was upon her, his white-suited body a mere inch from hers, his hand rising to stroke her cheek, smug satisfaction crossing his face as she turned her head away. "This has been a long time coming, my little high school toy."

She didn't bother to correct him. She couldn't imagine that he cared.

He smelled nice. He always did, meticulously careful in his personal grooming, but the heat of his breath against her face made her shiver in disgust nonetheless. His touch made her want to throw up. She had been so, so sure that she was finally _done_ with him.

"Turn around, bitch."

The insult stung Haru like a slap. She obeyed, for she had no choice, tears springing to her soft brown eyes as she turned around to face the desk, where the evidence of her father's misdeeds lay spread. Beyond, the windows that admitted sunlight into her office, the city seeming to stare back at her in judgment.

Then Sugimura was upon her, his chest flat against her back, a noticeably hard bulge pressing against her rear through pants and skirt and tights, and she cried out in shock, though she had known that it was coming. She knew what he wanted, at least here and now - not her company, not her wealth, but her. Her body. His 'toy'.

Revenge for what she had denied him.

She would let him have it. Have her. Anything to protect the company, and more importantly, protect the workers who had suffered under her father's reign. They had been through enough, and she... she was strong enough to protect them. It was just sex. If that was the price, then she would pay it, whether she liked it or not.

Arms hooked around her body, cruel hands sweeping up to clutch at her breasts, and even with several layers of clothing between her skin and his greedy grasp Haru still gasped in dismay, her body stiffening against Sugimura's, biting down on her lip as he shamelessly groped her.

Did her first time really have to be this way? With _him_?

if there had been another way out she would have taken it, but he had very carefully taken away all of her choices, until none remained but the unpalatable. Either she suffered, or her employees did. For kind, sweet Haru, that was scarcely a choice at all.

She let him play with her, fondle her through her clothing, and when he planted a hand against her back and shoved her down against the desk, she didn't resist him.

"Slut," he breathed down upon the virginal young woman, holding her down with one hand as he reached down to the pants of his crisp white suit and began to unbuckle his belt with the other, the sounds of creaking leather and jingling metal making Haru cringe in apprehension. "Nobody makes a fool out of me. Nobody treats me like trash and gets away with it. _Nobody._"

His pants and underwear falling down around his knees, Sugimura turned her attention back to her, and Haru let out a dreading whimper as she felt his hands lifting up her skirt, roaming over her rear and her thighs, fingertips digging into her skin through her tights and panties. Playing with her, like the toy he saw her as, violating places that nobody had ever touched before.

She bore his attentions in silence, though she grimaced in humiliation, staring ahead over the desk at her teacup and the windows beyond, at the papers now beneath her that spelled out her company's doom. She had become so much stronger in the last year, in her time as a Phantom Thief, but strength meant nothing here, beneath him. Not when he held the lives of so many in the palm of his ravenous, improper hands.

Sometimes, she supposed, strength meant not the power to rid oneself of their enemies, but the power to endure the worst.

Tears were tracing slow, solemn paths down her reddening cheeks as his fingers hooked into the waistband of her spotted tights and pulled them down her hips, sliding them down her thighs, and it wasn't until she felt cold air against her mound that she realized he had removed her panties in the same motion, removing every remaining barrier between the two of them all at once. The hard, damp heat of his manhood pressing against her buttocks made her freeze rigid in fear, her eyes opening wide with horror, but still she made herself stay silent, already knowing what he wanted from her, giving him the obedient, pliable schoolgirl that the bastard so craved...

Her silence didn't stop him from ripping her panties from her thighs and stuffing them into her mouth, forcing the silky white fabric between her reluctantly parting lips, smothering her tongue with the taste of herself. Her face screwed up in utter disgust, but she dared not spit them out, resentfully accepting her gag with the timidity that she knew he wanted, allowing herself one muffled whine of discontent as much for her own sake as for knowing how he would feed upon her humiliation.

At least it gave her something to bite down on when he slid himself inside of her.

This time there was no holding back her cry of distress as his cock forced her inner walls to part, ramming himself deep inside of Haru's body without the slightest regard for her comfort. She wasn't wet, not even a little, but Sugimura showed no sign that it was concerning him, sheathing himself inside of her until he reached both of their limits. He wasn't small, not in this one regard, spreading Haru open so violently that for a few terrible moments she wondered if permanent damage had been done, but as he held her down against the desk by her fluffy brown hair, remaining inside of her for what seemed like an eternity, she felt herself begin to adjust, the pain of his forceful entry slowly receding to a dull, searing ache.

To become ever so slightly wet, his intrusive warmth and hostile hardness having a shameful effect on her body as he filled her up, whether she wanted it to or not.

"I've been waiting for this," Sugimura growled into Haru's ear, his grip on her hair tightening until she squeaked in pain through her panties. "For so long... you little whore, you thought you could get away..."

He withdrew from her, only the head of his cock remaining inside of her... and slammed back into her with force enough to make her wail.

"You thought you were above me."

Again he slid out of her, and again he hammered back in, and again, somehow finding more force to apply with every vicious thrust.

"But you look so good _beneath_ me."

He didn't stop, didn't slow down, his hateful pace only accelerating as he pumped in and out of her, screwing her into her desk, the desk had once been her father's. Claiming her, owning her, smirking at the way her palms clutched at the polished wood, the way her tears stained the freshly printed evidence of her predecessor's deceit, blotting the dark ink to mud. The porcelain cup rattled against its saucer with every thrust, tea sloshing onto saucer and desk with his most violent impalements, groans of male pleasure intersperced with silk-muffled whimpers of pain and disgrace as flesh slapped against flesh, over and over and over...

He exploded inside of her, a river of hot, thick semen spurting deep, and Haru went stone-rigid in cold, blade-edged horror as he filthied her womb, as he drew out of her, a sordid mixture of their juices trickling out of her abused pussy.

She sagged against the desk as he let go of her, weeping without reserve.

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it." He wiped himself off with a handkerchief plucked from his breast pocket, but he did not put himself away, his slackening cock hanging disgracefully between his legs as he stepped around the desk to the leather-backed chair - to Haru's chair - seating his bare ass in the spot still slightly warm from Haru's own, a little of the venom gone from his sneer now that he had taken his revenge. No, it was callous disregard on his deceptively handsome face now as he stared across the desk at Haru, casually tossing his cum-soaked handkerchief at her face, chuckling darkly as the sodden rag clung to the fluffy brown hair flowing down the heiress's tear-stained cheek. "I could get used to _this_."

Did he mean the chair, and all it represented? Or Haru's misery, or how it had felt to violate her? Or all of those things? Haru, cracked but not yet broken, forced her hands flat against the desk beneath herself and pushed herself up, staggering to her feet and pulling up her tights, skirt falling back around her waist as she scooped the soiled handkerchief from her hair and her ruined panties from her mouth. "This... is my office. Not yours."

"Oh, my dear Haru." There was a ghost of fondness in his voice, or perhaps it was more of a zombie, a mockery of what it had once been. "I don't want your office. Not on any sort of permanent basis, not anymore. I will be using it on more of a... rental basis."

Haru glared, hands balling into fists, though she dropped the gesture when she realized she was balling her fingers tight around Sugimura's cum-soaked handkerchief. Revulsion tainted her face as she let it fall to the floor along with her panties, forcing her face to adopt the serious-CEO look that she had been practicing. It wasn't quite at the level of authority she wanted yet, particularly not with her face stained by tears, but it gave her a little more confidence, at least. "What are you talking about? I gave you what you wanted."

"You did, and I have no _permanent_ need of you any longer, it's true." Impervious to Haru's anger, Sugimura swung his feet up onto the desk, barely missing Haru's teacup, his expensive boots thudding against the wood as he crossed his ankles and smiled. His bare cock was beginning to stand to attention again, rising threateningly, and Haru blushed fiercely and glanced away in a hurry, fearing what it might mean. "I am now the fiance of the Suzune girl, you know, from the electronics company." he went on, pretending that he hadn't noticed. "I really don't need _you_ as an 'acceptable' partner anymore, or your finances for that matter, but you have ever been such fine company... and you are so much prettier than her."

"You aren't going to leave me alone." Haru's tone was that of the composed young executive she was learning to become, but within, her heart cracked in two.

"Oh, don't fret. It is not as if I will be living here." Sugimura snorted, a hand lazily dropping to his lap, fingers cupping himself, brazenly stroking himself to attention. "I will not even be visiting frequently, but when I do... I expect the busy young head of Okumura Foods to find a gap in her hectic schedule, if you understand my meaning. And an excuse to use her office. Or perhaps her bedroom, if that suits?"

Never. Even when they had been 'together', Haru had never let him see her bedroom, and if she had her way, he never, ever would.

"That said..." Sugimura continued, heedless of Haru's mounting discomfort, "I am not quite ready to leave it at that for today. Thinking of you so much lately has made me rather... restless."

Haru didn't reply, but the dreading look on her pale face told all. No, no, no. He was supposed to leave, now, and she could retreat to her home, shower and take a birth control pill and curl up and cry for a week. He wasn't supposed to want more from her. Not now.

"Take your clothes off, bitch."

She did, though she seemed to wilt more with every article of clothing she shed in the prison that her office had become. Shoes, tights, skirt. Her favorite pink sweater, the shirt she wore beneath, and then, with considerable reluctance, the lacy white bra that cupped her ample breasts, her cheeks burning red as she stripped herself down to nothing. Her panties were already gone, the taste of her sweat and skin still lingering in her mouth, revealing hair neatly shaven, folds still damp with the slick remains of their coupling, though she herself had taken no orgasm from it.

She would find an answer. A way out. Maybe the others would be able to help her, even without the Metaverse. She just had to survive today and everything would be okay, everything would be okay...

"Under the desk," Sugimura commanded, swinging his legs back underneath, spreading them for Haru's _access_. "On your knees."

Haru didn't need to ask him why. What he wanted from her could not have been more obvious, even to the sweet, virginal heiress, and she felt her cheeks burning with shame as she dropped to her bare knees in front of the desk and forced herself to climb through the gap on all fours despite what loomed in front of her, how erect it had become already, the thick smell of sex greeting her...

_Ugh..._

His intentions were plain, and the sly smile he gave her as he stared down at his debased little toy would have been more than hint enough even if she hadn't already figured it out, but Haru made no move to take him in her mouth until he grasped her head in his hands and guided it into place, pressing his tip up against her tightly pursed lips. The smell of him - and of her, she supposed, mortified - made her want to be sick, but she could not imagine that she would enjoy his reaction if she did, and she forced her bile down and made herself take him in her mouth, wrapping her lips around his tip, wincing as a foul new taste joined the one already lingering on her tongue.

"That's it..." her former fiancee cooed, his hands sifting through her fluffy tresses, every strand of hair that he touched feeling filthy for his attention. "I knew you were good for something, Haru."

Somehow, even after she had found the strength to cast him out of her life once before, his words still hurt like barbed wire around her heart. After everything that she had been through to avoid ending up at Sugimura's mercy, here she was anyway, naked on her hands and knees, with his cock sliding deeper into her mouth. Had she even grown at all? Was she really just the same timid girl she always had been, playing at adulthood as she had played at thieving hearts?

No. She was better than this. She was only doing this today to protect her employees. She was not giving up, she was not letting herself be damned to a lifetime of subservience to this bag of filth. She would find a way to be rid of him, forever.

All she had to do was survive today. Survive this.

She had tried not to cry this time, but tears streamed down her cheeks nonetheless, tears of strain as Sugimura hilted himself in the heiress's throat and made her gag around his cock. He pinched her nose between finger and thumb, denying her air for the sheer amusement of it, watching her watering eyes water and listening to her sickening desperation for air before finally allowing her to fall back in a coughing, spluttering mess, wiping at her eyes and her mouth.

"Hmph. You'll need training." 

Sugimura stood, defying Haru's expectations that he would put her straight back to work on his cock, but again, he made no move to pull up his pants. His white trousers and belt and underwear falling around his ankles, he gestured for Haru to stand up, waiting until she was on her feet before him, naked and disheveled before the vast windows of her office, before taking hold of his saliva-slick manhood and slowly, roughly jerking himself in front of her, that malevolent grin spreading across his face once more.

Did he just want her to _watch_? Haru had no taste for such a show, of course, but it was better than being forced to participate with her mouth, and she watched him in discomfort, cheeks clouded red, her eyes barely able to linger upon _it_ for a moment before darting off in some other direction. What could he possibly be thinking? Was she supposed to be impressed? If his intended result was her disgust, then it was working a charm.

She had wondered if he meant to finish on her, but when his face began to tighten and his breathing came in tight little bursts, he turned himself away from her instead, leaning toward the desk, reaching out with his free hand.

Collecting Haru's teacup and saucer and drawing them to the edge of the desk, close to him.

Some tea had spilled while Sugimura had fucked her over the desk, but the cup was still well over half full, the pale brown liquid no longer steaming but still lukewarm. Deeply uncertain, Haru watched his every move from a safe distance, utterly confused by what her tormentor was planning next, but when her former fiancee pointed the tip of his cock over the rim of the cup, his other hand still fervently jerking himself off, she began to understand.

When he let out a brief, low grunt and came, his seed spilling into the cup to mingle with the tea, her stomach turned in dismay.

"Ahh..." Finally the bastard saw fit to put himself away, lifting his pants and underwear as one and buckling his belt around his waist, but his sick work was done and Haru was going to have to live with the consequences. "We've had such a good time together, haven't we, slut? You look like you've worked up a thirst..."

He stirred the disgusting mixture with a finger, then approached and delicately handed the cup and saucer to her, and she accepted it with the greatest reluctance, fighting the urge to tip it on the floor. He'd probably make her lick it up, she realized, trying to keep her shaking hands in order lest she spill it by mistake. She could see the dollops of whiteness swirling around within her tea, the two liquids mixing together as one...

"Go on, now." Sugimura watched her like a predator waiting for an excuse to spring. "Drink up. Don't waste the gift I have given you... Haru."

Somehow, the use of her name hurt worse now than the insults he had carelessly thrown in her face. Reminding her who she was, what she had done and was about to to, making it that much more difficult for the heiress to disassociate herself. Her hands trembling, porcelain faintly rattling together in her hands, she swallowed hard and raised her cup to her lips, trying not to notice the beads of cum on the rim, just where her lips would touch...

She took a sip, and her face screwed up in revulsion.

It was everything she could do not to throw up. The flavor of the tea was still there, of course, but the bitter saltiness still dissolving within was impossible to ignore as it slid over her tongue and down her throat. Her nude body convulsed in disgust, but she held onto the cup and the saucer, returning one to the other as she made herself swallow and looked to him for approval, praying that her humiliation was finally over.

"All of it."

Sugimura's expression didn't change, a perfect mask of sadistic glee, and it was only a valiant effort that saved her from throwing the cup into his face with all of her strength. Never since the end of the Metaverse had she so badly wished for her grenade launcher or her axe, but she had neither, nor powers here that might save her. She was on her own, backed into a corner, and this time rebellion would only hurt those who worked for her.

Could she harm them all, just to avoid this disgrace?

The rim of her teacup touched her lips, and she drank. Taking in every last drop, the tea and the foul dollops of cum still not yet fully mixed within, suffering through the combined tastes with fresh tears in her eyes and churning nausea in her stomach. When she was finally done she placed cup and saucer on the desk as quickly as she could, coughing and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, so utterly sickened by what she had done and who had made her do it that she wasn't going to hold together, she was going to throw up-

"Good girl."

The hungry look Sugimura gave her made her skin crawl and her bile retreat into her throat.

"See? That wasn't so hard, even for you." He threw a bundle of cloth into her arms, and as numbingly blank as she felt, it took her a moment to recognize it as her thick pink sweater. "Behave yourself, do what I want, and nobody has to know about those nasty business arrangement your father was involved in."

Haru said nothing. Could say nothing. She held her sweater bundled up against her breasts, as if there were any point in hiding them from him now, hugging it for comfort. It sounded like he was done, and right now... she just wanted him out. Gone.

"Oh, don't make that face." He stepped close to her then, his hand rising to stroke her fluffy hair, and she flinched away from him without meaning to, trembling more violently now, humiliation eating away at her like acid. "I'm a man of my word. I'll do what I say, as long as _you_ do what I say. And if I happen to want your company tonight at my abode... you'll come running, won't you, Haru-chan?"

Haru's heart could have been made of jagged ice, but she nodded limply, her brown eyes shadowed. "Y-yes..."

"I knew you'd say yes." With a final pat of her tear-damp cheek Sugimura stood back, his smile rather more formal than before, the smile of an already wealthy man out to make some connections. Not the smile of an abuser, a rapist, but then he had ever been good at hiding his true nature until it was too late. "Be there at eight, and Haru, dear... there's no need to bother with underwear."

He left her there, as she was. Crying, naked, shivering, one wrong thought from being sick right there on the floor of her office. The papers he had brought with him still spread across the desk, a final reminder of his position in their relationship, and hers.

It took her a few minutes to feel safe to get dressed, as if he might have returned at any moment. Her panties were ruined, and she tossed them in the bin beside her desk along with Sugimura's forgotten handkerchief and, after a moment's thought, the cup and saucer, as well. Then the papers, screwing them up in turn, each more violent then the next. By the end she was snarling her rage every time her hands curled into fists around another doomed document, tears flowing freely, despair howling inside of her like a cold wind through a vast, bottomless gorge, ripping at all that it touched.

Water. She needed water, something to rid her mouth of the horrible medley of tastes he had left her with.

Then, a pill, and a shower.

Then she was going to call her friends, the former Phantom Thieves, and one way or another, her next visit to Sugimura's abode was going to be her last.


End file.
